The Closet of My Dreams


Believe it or not, the occasional company or brand will ask us to write about them in exchange for their products. This does not happen very often. When it does, we tend to decline, because we can’t write about or recommend something we don’t like or wouldn’t use. We’re terrible liars.

A few weeks back, we got a note from MakeSpace, a company we’d never heard of, wanting us to write about what our dream closet might look like. Once we explored what MakeSpace does (it makes space! but more on that later), we agreed. 

Dreaming is good during times like this. In the wake of our disastrous election, I’ve been a bit of a zombie. Personal hygiene and style have not just taken a backseat; they’re not even in the car.

Maybe my dream closet can snap me out of my sartorial slumber.

First things first. My real closet is more nightmare than dream: stuff straining to hang on to weak wire hangers, shoved together so tight that yanking anything out requires a giant pair of Pliers. Piles of inside-out jeans, orphan socks and wadded up sweatpants pass for carpeting. There is nothing more terrifying than having to get ready to leave the house and opening that closet door. I can’t find anything. Nothing looks good. I hate everything. I hate myself in everything.

But in my dreams……

I open the door. A soft fluffy carpet greets my feet as I enter a mini-version of a perfectly edited boutique: A tiny Dover Street Market, Colette, Opening Ceremony or Just One Eye. Every pair of leggings and Levi’s transform to elegance in such surroundings, folded neatly next to Marni bags and Rick Owens OTK sneaker boots. One of those mid-century egg chairs hangs from the ceiling, from where I can lounge and lord over my personal shop; next to the chair, on a tulip Saarinen table, sits a copy of Elle, an Ipad, a jar of circus peanuts and a mocha with extra whip. Across from the chair, a TV plays Bravo! and/or 60’s Technicolor movies on mute.

Soft lighting airbrushes my mug. A Skinny mirror, like those used in fancy department stores, shaves off 10 pounds. De La Soul, Todd Rundgren, The Who, Sugar and Ariel Pink play softly from Sonos speakers.

There is nothing in here I don’t love. Every piece that perfect combination of edge, architecture, oddball and slouch, all things I’ve coveted over the past year: Vetements ring belt, Acne Baltimore Coat, Burberry tasseled combat boots, Unravel bomber, Alexander McQueen gold and feathered slippers. Ready to be tossed on in any combination to create the perfect me. Getting ready to go out becomes more fun than actually going out.


Dreaming about my dream closet is inspiring me to edit it down to the gems. I want a little daylight between the hangers, empty space on the floor. I want to find what I’m looking for. Once I find it and put it on, I want to look fantastic, or at least fantastic for me. Is that too much to ask?

In the meantime, there is MakeSpace, the company that reached out to us. They are here to help create that space on your journey to the closet of your dreams.

They’re a new storage company that will come pick up your excess stuff, and bring it back whenever you need it. It’s like having your own virtual giant closet for overflow. They’ll also pick up and drop off your donations to Goodwill free of charge.

Right now, MakeSpace is available in these storage locations. If you live in San Francisco like me, you’ll have to wait a few months before they launch here and roll-out to other parts of the country.

So while I make space in my garage to store my “can’t yet part with” stuff, MakeSpace is around for back-up. Come to think of it, I wish there was a MakeSpace for brains, where useless information (like lyrics to songs I hate, plots to movies I hate more) can be stored, so that I remember where I put that Courreges cropped jacket and remember your name. That would be quite the dream.


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